The Keeper Of My Heart
by x Veela x
Summary: This is the sequel to Seeing Sidelong fluff alert! x x x


Disclaimer: sigh, I type this at the top of everything I write; it's really getting quite depressing now…No, guess what, I do not own the books by J K Rowling… funny, that, isn't it? I mean, seeing as it has her name on the front cover…

This is the sequel to _Seeing Sidelong_; I'd really appreciate it if you would read that one first. A review might be nice too…

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This sequel is dedicated to Hogwarts Honey for giving me inspiration without even realizing it and for being the most amazing star ever.

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The Keeper Of My Heart

I walk into the comforting arms of my best friend, trying desperately to hold in the sadness. He puts his arm around me, drawing me into him. Over the top of his head, I can feel him making motions at his best friend behind me.

My heart falls to the bottom of my stomach. What is he motioning? I dread the message. I know Ron doesn't feel the same way; why did I tell Harry my feelings? I raise my head and then feel his arms relax around me.

"Don't worry, I haven't said anything to him," he reassures me, "Mione, I've got to go, we have quidditch practice." He shoots me a sly look, "Do you want to come and watch?" I can tell he's up to something. Maybe I should just go along – just to see what he's doing. Maybe later. I shake my head, returning to the library to study for the test tomorrow.

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I look disparagingly at them as they sit there staring despairingly at the list of ingredients and methods before them. I already know the outcome, but I wouldn't change it for all the house-elves to be set free. As they both hand their papers back to Professor Slughorn with slightly apologetic, sheepish looks, I smile at the lanky, redheaded teenager, hoping to make it better. He smiles back.

We leave the classroom to see the Boy-Who-Was-A-Ferret vs. The Boy-Who-Lived. I smile to myself at my mental commentary. A sudden bravery sweeps across me and I lean up to Ron, my lips almost brushing his neck as he listens to me. He lets out a roar of laughter and I know he is a true Gryffindor. Harry casts us a sidelong lance as Ron steps to the front, his wand outstretched. His curse hits the proud pureblood first, knocking his mudblood accusation against me from his lips. He protects me with his bravery, his wit and his loyalty.

I give him a beaming smile as the crowds gather around us. He leans down towards me one hand on my waist, another tilting my head upwards to his own. As our lips meet, I feel oblivious to the stunned crowd around us; the silence, the cheers and then the whistles. He is my world; our world.

We sit together that evening in one chair; I stay safely in his lap as the flickers of the warm fire reflect my feelings. He sighs regretfully and then his eyes light with a spark as he entwines his fingers with my own. I look curiously at him and he reveals his thoughts,

"I have quidditch practice – would you come and support me?" Not "Do I want to come and watch" He requests that I support his; that I stay by his side – well, as near as I can stay.

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I take my place in the stands and watch intently as the team strolls out onto the pitch to begin practice. I can see them huddling around the messy crown of jet black hair, presumably discussing whatever it is quidditch players need to discuss. It's one of the only things I have not understood from reading a book.

I can see his head of flames standing out so vividly as usual from the rest as they mount their brooms and start flying round the oval. A part of me knows that even if he had the most common, forgettable, unmarked appearance that I could always pick him out from the crowd.

The players begin to spread out and he flies up to the hoops, hovering protectively round all three of them. The chasers bring the quaffle closer to him; I can almost see his eyes narrow in concentration. He dives; by the tips of his fingertips, he causes the ball to roll into his palm, holding his hand in the air indicating the score to Harry before he tosses it back to his sister.

There he is – the keeper of my heart.

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There we are – a happy ending. . .

Love,

x Imperial Princess x


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